


À la vie, à la mort

by ktbl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Cunnilingus, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, F/F, Kinktober 2020, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: “Are you sure?” Sombra stood near the window of Amélie’s chambers in Chateau Guillard, the castle nearly empty save the two of them. Privacy, for this - always privacy.“I am certain.” Amélie looked across the room at Sombra. “Unless you have decided this is too risky for your taste.”“Hah. Try me, chica.”“I intend to.”—Kinktober Day 4, prompt: breathplay
Relationships: Sombra | Olivia Colomar/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	À la vie, à la mort

“Are you sure?” Sombra stood near the window of Amélie’s chambers in Chateau Guillard, the castle nearly empty save the two of them. Privacy, for this - always privacy.

“I am certain.” Amélie looked across the room at Sombra. “Unless _you_ have decided this is too risky for your taste.”

“Hah. Try me, chica.”

“I intend to.” Amélie smiled, and watched as the expression was reflected by her lover. Sombra was an opportunist, and Amélie was complicated, but this suited them - nothing more than an easy give and take. Somehow the woman managed to stir up emotions and sensations in Amélie that Moira had been sure she’d eradicated.

Amélie had no intent on telling Moira her experiment was faulty, especially because it had led Amélie down several interesting avenues of exploration. She had discovered things that would ease the frustrations of her body, bring her pleasure that she’d thought lost, a sense of being alive again that she had almost forgotten. Sombra’s complaints about boredom and Talon not being nearly as fascinating as she’d expected had led to drinks, and conversations, and then casual sex. Determined to take every challenge offered, Sombra was more than willing to do whatever it took to get Amélie off - a determination that sparked the sniper’s interest.

“You want out, you’re done, two taps, like we agreed, right?” Her voice was loose and easy, but it didn’t fool Amélie. Sombra lived hard, and played hard, but choking her lover was something that even she hadn’t done yet. Her fingers skimmed the stone of the windowsill, and she turned to look at Amélie, perched on the edge of her bed.

Sombra’s neural interface gleamed in the low evening light, and the lights of her spinal implant lit the back of her black silk robe. She was confident and easy with her cybernetic enhancements, though they were delicate enough, made her vulnerable enough, that she didn’t like stripping down in front of people. Which made it particularly pleasant for Amélie, knowing she could get this far under Sombra’s armor. Close to the real woman.

“Two taps, or the obvious.”

“You barely have a pulse and breathe, I’m gonna be more safe than sorry, _hermosa_.” Sombra turned, letting her black silk robe fall open, baring the curves of her breasts and a swath of dusky skin, the dark thatch of curls between her thighs. Amélie swallowed unconsciously at the sight; she was beautiful, from a purely aesthetic perspective. It made the tiny tug in her loins pull a little harder, the first hint of wanting.

Sombra crossed the room to the bed with long, easy steps. She was a stalking jaguar, all lithe muscle and constrained speed. And dangerous enough to keep things interesting.

She reached for Amélie’s hair, twining her fingers in the dark mass, and their lips crashed together in a kiss, tongues tangling and sliding together. Sombra straddled her, fabric falling in nearly liquid folds down her back, her own fingers reaching for the sash of Amélie’s red silk robe to free her. Still kissing, still teasing, Sombra trailed her tongue around the corners of Amélie’s mouth, and then pulled back. Amélie watched as Sombra considered for a moment, something flickering again in those dark eyes, before she dove in and captured Amélie’s lower lip between her teeth, tugging and sucking in on it. The red silk dropped as Sombra’s hands defeated the sash, and cool air kissed Amélie’s shoulders.

Amélie ran her hands along Sombra’s head, through her dyed hair and across the faintly glowing neural interface. Her fingers continued over her shoulders and down her back, delicately brushing across the spinal implant and dips of ports. Beneath the touches, Sombra trembled; she rarely allowed contact with those most vulnerable of places, the prized cybernetic upgrades that let her become who she was. Amélie peppered kisses over the toned shoulders, along and down the equally well-muscled arms, and sucked each finger on each hand into her mouth one at a time. Sombra shuddered again at it, her eyes half-closed and watching Amélie as she teased every finger with her tongue.

“Enough,” the hacker finally said, voice surprisingly high. Sombra pushed her back, and she went willingly, sliding onto the center of the bed in the midst of the coverlets and pillows, egregious luxury and excess from another life. Sombra knelt in front of her, almost straddling her hips, and Amélie reached up to caress her breasts, drawing one into her mouth and then the other. Nipples tightened, furling close like buds, and Sombra arched back and let out an unvarnished cry of pleasure. She looked good like that; uncomposed, not plotting her next move. Wild.

Amélie hid her satisfaction beneath cool indifference.

“No point in being quiet,” Sombra added with a smirk, and Amélie let her teeth graze across dark brown nipples, roll them in her mouth, feeling the skin tighten against her tongue. Her long nails slid down Sombra’s skin, just enough to leave the tiniest of marks. They would be enough, hidden beneath Sombra’s suit, but Amélie would know.

Sombra dug her fingers into Amélie’s hair, twisting and tangling to hold her tight. They kissed again, mouths slanting together, hard and aggressive. She slid her tongue into Amélie’s mouth, tongues sliding across each other long and leisurely. Amélie could feel her heart begin to pick up speed. One of Sombra’s hands dropped between Amélie’s legs, brushing with a surprising delicateness across the folds. Amélie could still feel, and this felt exquisite, but this was not entirely what she wanted. But it was a start, to get her there. They tangled together until Amélie could hear Sombra’s heart pounding beneath the curves of her ribs, could see the way her pupils widened, her chest go ragged, knew her body answered in every way.

Amélie tipped back on the bed, stretching out languorously against the sheets, feeling them smooth against her skin. She reached for Sombra, taking one of her hands in her own, looking at the contrast between them. Her skin had almost started to pink, the lilac blue lightening ever so slightly to a paler tint. Sombra was the kind of warmth she craved. She kissed the palm and each fingertip with deliberation, and rested it on her neck.

Sombra’s hand lay there for a moment, for the first time less than certain about what she was asked to do.

“Do it,” Amélie hissed.

“You sure?” There was a moment of hesitation in Sombra’s voice. “It’s…”

“I am _sure_.” She could feel the bob of her throat against Sombra’s palm as she swallowed.

Sombra’s eyes were dark, pupils wide with lust but a hint of worry creeping in at the corners, but she did as ordered. She put one hand under her chin, placing her thumb with perfect care as if she’d practiced, pushing up and in to constrict her breathing. Amélie gasped, body shuddering involuntarily. Sombra’s free hand skimmed over breasts and nipples, cupped Amélie’s face and looked into her half-lidded eyes, and the beginnings of pleasure began to course through her.

“Harder,”Amélie ordered, the grasp there but not _enough_ , not yet, blood still slinking through her veins easily. None of the rush she craved, the overwhelming sense of _alive_ and _pulse,_ not yet. Sombra hesitated, and met Amélie’s eyes. She must have seen something in them, the need for more, because she did it without arguing.

Sombra squeezed again, tipping back Amélie’s chin, hand shifting to a new position. Her fingers settled with a new, deliberate placement along her carotid artery. Amélie was even starting to feel warm now, a sensation that she had nearly forgotten. She closed her eyes, and let herself drift, feeling the warmth of the figure beside her, the warmth of the hand on her throat, the strokes and caresses of another hand, trying to coax more stimulation from her.

The sense - finally, as her hand hit the right amount of pressure - of floating. The fuzziness around her senses as each digit squeezed just _so_ , impairing the flow of blood even more, the tension that made each slow breath a delicious struggle. Tighter, just a little tighter, two breaths - and then she couldn’t breathe, the pressure right and the gasping hope for breath just like it had been to really breathe, before.

Amélie tapped her lover’s thigh twice, firm and precise. Sombra pulled her hand away immediately, and blood rushed where it had been forbidden, carrying oxygen and chemicals. Euphoria burned through like a raging wildfire, nerves crackling awake.

Sombra moved down Amélie, hands busy playing over her skin until one fluttered between her thighs. “Oh, you liked that,” the woman murmured with a sly grin, lifting up a hand. Amélie could see it glisten slightly in the bedroom light. Sombra’s fingers brushed back down, playing with precision across the folds between Amélie’s legs. She felt fingers slide inside again, the pad of Sombra’s thumb brushing a circle around her clit, but not touching. The nerve-rich bud ached for contact, and she arched her hips up to try to catch Sombra’s hand.

“Try again, chica,” Sombra murmured with a gleam in her eyes, mouth curving even wider. The pink-purple of her neural interface threw a softer light on her face. Amélie drove her hips up again, and tilted her neck back.

“Again, Sombra.”

“So soon?”

“I want to stay like this as long as possible.” She could hear her own voice, and it sounded almost shamefully needy. Not cool, not unemotional. Sombra grinned wickedly, eyes sparkling, and it made Amélie catch and hold her breath for a moment.

“You’re the boss.” Sombra adjusted her position, trapping Amélie beneath her body, one hand on her throat and the other working slowly across her. Fingers snuck between the folds of her sex and dipped into her again, narrow fingers unerringly finding her g-spot. Amélie moaned, and it only made Sombra grin the wider, her fingertips playing across it like they did a computer’s screen. The hand retreated and Sombra kissed her again, both hands curling around Amélie’s neck simultaneously. The contact was exhilarating, and her sluggish heart began to thud along almost regularly. Sombra pressed in again, more of her weight, while she kept her mouth attached to Amélie, kissing her and sharing breaths, the sweet-spicy taste of the woman as intoxicating as the lack of oxygen.

Amélie curled her hand around Sombra’s thigh, and closed her eyes as Sombra pressed down with both hands. Everything went soft again as her heart tried to push blood up, but the pressure on her veins and the constriction of her throat made every breath a struggle. She arched up, her fingers digging into Sombra’s thigh, pushing herself against the other woman’s grip. She could feel her pulse now, feel the blood in her body, trying to pound in her ears, and she tapped Sombra twice again. She pulled her hands away from Amélie’s throat instantaneously.

Gasping for a breath, feeling the blood rush into her veins anew, Amélie moaned, loud and low. She pulled Sombra down to her face, kissing her again, and luxuriating in the sensations of the woman atop her, hands and fingers playing along her body. Her nerves were alive again, her pulse pounding, and it was like being back on the stage again as her body pulsed with the joy of vitality.

“You’re almost regular color again,” Sombra said between kisses, trailing a half-dozen along Amelie’s throat, paying special attention to her carotid artery and where it pounded away.

“Never tell,” Amélie whispered, looking up at her lover.

“Just you and me, Araña.” She trailed kisses down between Amélie’s breasts, playing with nipples now only the palest blue as blood coursed through them. She shuddered and moaned again as Sombra took one into her mouth, tugging on it gently with her teeth, and then worked her way down again.

She looked up only once more, as she buried her face between Amélie’s thighs, tongue busying itself licking and lapping at her clit, swiping along the folds, stretching in and laving just a bit inside. Amélie threaded one hand into Sombra’s hair and gave herself up to the other woman’s ministrations. Fingers and tongue all sent shocks of sensation through her, as if every nerve were being stimulated for the first time, and all at once. The endorphins and adrenaline carried her longer than she thought possible, a forgotten warmth wrapping around her spine.

She dropped into French, syllables of praise and pleasure rolling off her tongue. Perhaps Sombra had learned some French - or it wasn’t so far off from Spanish - but the praise and encouragement seemed to make her double her pace. Tongue, fingers, the delicate scrape of teeth, all busy with renewed effort. Her nerves kept sending signals, flooding Amélie’s body with forgotten sensations until it overwhelmed her and a climax burst through her.

She cried out, shuddering, hand suddenly knotted in Sombra’s hair, thighs tightening and pressing upward. Anything to keep her there, keep her tongue working and doing what it was doing.

Amélie came back to herself and Sombra had stopped, resting her chin on Amélie’s abdomen, face slick and shining with Amélie’s arousal. The other woman looked remarkably pleased with herself - the cat that got the cream, the hacker that got the intel, the woman that drew orgasms out of the literally cold-hearted sniper. Cocky, and proud, and maybe - just maybe - a little happy.

“Sombra.” Amélie reached her hands down and drew the shorter woman back up to her. She busied herself running her hands through Sombra’s hair, grazing over the half-shaved side and its intricate, delicate electronics.

“That good for you? You get what you need, Amélie?” The lilt of her name on Sombra’s tongue, said with a Mexican accent instead of French - her _name_ , and not her code name - made Amélie’s slowing heart kick once, twice, out of pace. So much work, for such brief gain.

“I did.” Amélie pressed a kiss to the mole by Sombra’s eye. “It was just what I needed. And I am willing to show you how grateful I am.”

“Promises, promises.” Sombra’s dark eyes sparkled, propping herself up on her arms. “You French people, so good with your tongues. How about you prove it?”

“Remember… I am a sniper, too. And I was a dancer, before. It is not only my tongue which is well-trained.” She smiled, eyes sighting on the way Sombra’s throat bobbed and her chest rose at the words. “I have impeccable control.” Amélie slid herself down on her back, long black hair spreading out behind her like a shadow. Her tongue traced a line between Sombra’s breasts, across the flat of her stomach, and kept going.

“Let’s see if you’re as good as you claim.”

“You should know well enough by now, Sombra. Tout le plaisir est pour moi.” 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! Activities like this are definitely edgeplay and risky, so before you consider indulging in them, remember you have (...hopefully) not been modded by Moira, please take better safety precautions than Amélie and Sombra did. :)
> 
> Want to find me on the interwebs? [Here's my carrd!](https://dei2dei.carrd.co/)


End file.
